


I'm always free to run home

by DrarryMalecSolangelo



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, and kill virgil eight times over, and virgil is GAY, ideas that involve eyeliner and new outfits, in a good way, it's just tooth-rotting fluff guys, patton is adorable, that's it that's the one shot, this was purely self indulgent ngl, virgil is a flustered mess and patton has Ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrarryMalecSolangelo/pseuds/DrarryMalecSolangelo
Summary: Patton is adorable and Virgil is gay. There's only so much adorableness his poor little gay heart can take.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011990
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	I'm always free to run home

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: food, anxiety, and kissing (it’s a light peck though)  
> The title is from the song Don’t Forget Where You Belong by One Direction. Don’t judge me alkfjkds.   
> Enjoy!

Virgil was sitting crossed legged on the couch, drumming his fingers and absolutely  _ not _ thinking about Patton, who was sitting on the other side of the couch.

He was wearing his cat onesie, which contrasted with Virgil's uncomfortable jeans, and held a warm mug of tea in his hands. 

Virgil felt so cold.

He wondered how it would feel to inch a little bit closer to his friend, rest his hand against Patton's arm for a short second- would it be warm? Soft? Calming? Virgil was pretty sure it'd be all three- and ask for a small taste of his beverage. He knew Patton would agree, too, but refuse to hand over any of his treasured, still warm cookies.

He wondered just how hot the tea would be. 

Virgil's eyes gave him a clue, spotting a faint pinkish hue in Patton's hand as one of them left the mug for a brief moment in favor of pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. The anxious side's gaze lingered in it. 

He wondered how soft the hair would feel under his fingertips, or in between his fingers if he ran a hand through it. Were they as soft as they appeared to be? Were there hidden curls waiting to be discovered by his exploring fingers? Did it smell like cotton candy? Virgil would like to know.

His gaze flickered a little down, and he was met by another wonderful sight he was physically unable of disliking. His eyes.

He would like to know the exact shade of brown Patton's eyes were. Were there specks of other colors? Were they as warm as the tea he held? Warmer perhaps? He didn't know, but one thing he knew for certain was that those dark coffee eyes had him even more addicted than the drink itself. They were so full of love, and affection, and appreciation, and understanding, and they showed so much  _ trust _ . Virgil wouldn't be able to dislike them even if he actively tried.

He looked away. As previously stated, Virgil was  _ not _ thinking about Patton. Not at all.

“Virgil?”

The alluded person, caught off guard, immediately turned to look at Patton with an expression of something that could only be described as panic on his face. 

“Yes?”

Had he been caught staring? Had he unconsciously said some of his thoughts out loud? Was Patton mad at him?  _ Did he ruin everything? _

"Do you want a cookie?" Patton asked calmly, making all of Virgil’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

And wow, something had to be wrong with the moral side. He never offered anyone his cookies. 

Virgil inspected his expression with a feeling resembling concern. No dark bags under his eyes, a soft smile with no appearance of being fake, relaxed warm eyes that didn’t hold any worry.

If Patton wasn’t mad at Virgil, then what was wrong?

“A cookie?” his mouth asked- without his consent, mind you.

“A cookie,” Patton confirmed, allowing a small chuckle to escape his lips.

Virgil wondered, then, if those lips tasted like tea, cookies, or something entirely different and unique. 

He dismissed the thought right away.

"Sure," he said, instead of the thoughts plaguing his head. He did  _ not  _ want to know how Patton's lips tasted. Nope.

But would they feel as soft as they looked? As comforting and sweet as him? Maybe more?

He caught himself staring, yet again, and rushed to grab the offered cookie. He hesitated before grabbing it. Was Patton sure he wanted Virgil to have it? Why would he?

Was it pity? Was it a way to distract him? Had Patton seen him stare and decided his cookies were worth less than getting Virgil to stop?

Oh. Oh no.

"Are you sure?" Virgil asked instead, voice quiet and hesitant. "They're yours."

"I want you to have it!" Patton said cheerfully. "Cookies make me happy, and I want people I love to be happy too!"

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Virgil took it, then, looking up again to check Patton's eyes for any sign of disinclination. He didn't find anything other than boundless affection.

“Thanks,” he said then, taking it. Patton simply smiled widely and went back to sipping his tea.

Virgil stared at Patton, then looked down at his cookie, then back to Patton, and once again to his cookie. Freckles, chocolate chips, tan skin, vanilla dough. Incredibly sweet.

Virgil realized where that train of thought had gotten him and failed to stop a blush from coating his cheeks.

“Are you okay, honey?” Patton asked with a creased forehead, but the slightest hint of a smile was visible underneath it all.

_ No, _ Virgil thought miserably.  _ No, I’m not. _

And then he finished processing Patton’s words. He short-circuited.

“I’m not okay, I’m gay.”

Patton blinked, stunned for a second, then the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

"Was that a pun?" Virgil's blush deepened. He looked away. "Wait, what's  _ that _ ?"

Virgil was surprised by a gentle finger touching his chin, making him look back at Patton. He was a flustered mess and probably wouldn't be able to say a word if he tried to.

"Your eyeshadow!” Virgil’s eyes widened as he realized what was going on. “It’s purple!”

Oh no-

Oh no no no no-

“It looks amazing!” Patton all but squealed in excitement.

Virgil was, for the umpteenth time that day, rendered speechless. And if his cheeks ended up acquiring a permanent reddish color, he’d blame Patton.

The moral side set down his tea hurriedly and then put a soft hand on Virgil’s cheek to examine the eyeshadow from up close.

_ Yeah, _ Virgil thought idly as he tried not to die on the spot,  _ his tea was really warm. _

Patton’s eyes lit up. “I know!” He scrambled up and rushed to his room.

Virgil grieved the loss of warmth.

It wasn’t long until the fatherly side came back, holding something in his hand that Virgil couldn’t get a good look at.

“It looks great but it would look even better matched with eyeliner!” Patton exclaimed excitedly.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said slowly, “what?”

Patton didn’t seem deterred. “Eyeliner!”

“Eyeliner?”

“Eyeliner!”

And Virgil would’ve panicked at the mere thought of it, but how could be, when the idea was proposed by someone he trusted so much?

Virgil looked at Patton’s excited face, twinkling eyes, and a hand that looked oh so lonely now that it wasn’t touching his face, and decided it was worth it.

“Okay,” he said, still managing to surprise himself with the answer, “let’s do it.”

The moral side clapped happily in celebration and got to work, delicately placing a hand back on Virgil’s cheek to keep him in place while the other carefully started applying the makeup on his eye.

“Don’t open your eyes,” Patton muttered, squinting in concentration. “No, don’t close them so tightly either.” He giggled. “Just relax, okay?”

The tea was long forgotten, and the batch of cookies had been left on the table for both of them to eat how many they’d like.

“Alright,” Patton pulled away, admiring the job he had done on the right eye, “one left.”

He got a little closer this time, trying to copy the exact shape on the other eye. He stuck his tongue out slightly in concentration, and Virgil mentally chuckled. Of course Patton did that.

And as he realized that, he also realized just how close Patton was to him.

And he thought his blush couldn’t get any deeper.

From up close, he could see that Patton’s eyes were completely brown, with no specks of other colors on sight. But, if Virgil was being honest, it just made it all the more breathtaking; they looked so warm and loving and it was so easy to get lost in them. 

_ Chocolate,  _ Virgil’s mind provided.  _ They look like melted chocolate. Warm and sweet. _

His cheeks burnt too much already.

_ ‘Hey mind? Could you please turn down the Gay?’ _ Virgil asked his mind. In response, his mind pointed out how cute Patton looked when he was concentrating so hard. Rude.

But, unfortunately, Virgil had to agree. Patton looked adorable.

The moral side suddenly drew back, but he didn’t give Virgil enough time to worry about it, as he started speaking that same moment. 

“You look so good!”

He was quiet for a second and then his eyes widened. He gasped, a smile slowly taking over his face.

“There’s one thing that could make this even better,” he said, then put a warm, comforting hand on the anxious side’s shoulder. “Do you trust my judgment?”

“Of what?” Virgil asked, growing nervous. “Cookies or economy?”

“Clothing,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at his worn-out hoodie and uncomfortable jeans. He didn't see any problem.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Do you trust my judgment?” Patton repeated. Virgil hesitated for a second but nodded.

Patton snapped his fingers and they were instantly wearing different outfits. Outfits Virgil had  _ not  _ anticipated.

He was wearing a pleated purple skirt that matched his eyeshadow, with a black shirt tucked in, fishnets, and black military boots.

He would’ve loved his outfit if he hadn’t been so focused on Patton’s own. His mouth might’ve dropped at the sight. You’ll never know for sure.

Because Morality was wearing a knee-length light blue skirt, with a plain white shirt and colorful barrettes in his hair. He was barefoot, but he didn’t seem to mind as he took in Virgil’s appearance.

“If you- If you can snap things into existence,” Virgil started, raising a brow, “then why did you make my eyeliner yourself?”

And, for the first time, Patton was the one who blushed.

“Anyway, Virgil-” his voice was just a pitch too high- “you look great!”

The other man chuckled and was back at trying to hide his blush. He fumbled for words. “Thanks. You look...” he stared at Patton for a second and swallowed hard, “very good yourself."

Patton giggled happily and stood up, grabbing Virgil’s hand on the way and pulling him along.

“Can we dance? Pretty please?”

“We are  _ not  _ going to dance.”

“Come on! Please, Virgil!”

“Not gonna happen. I’m not dancing.”

Patton pouted. Virgil shook his head. Patton pouted harder. Virgil glared playfully.

Morality let out a dramatic loud sigh, but he didn’t look genuinely upset.

He stepped forward and put his arms around the other’s neck. “Hold me, then?”

Yes, Virgil’s cheeks would indeed remain red for eternity, it seemed.

And how could Virgil decline when Patton asked him like that? His mind was trying to force forward its nature, trying to make him anxious about it, as it had all afternoon, but it was futile. If Virgil was with Patton, his aura and personality were enough to make him feel calmer. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he liked him as much as he did.

Instead of answering Patton’s question, he circled his waist with his arms, letting his cheek rest on the other’s shoulder.

Virgil smiled. His hair did smell like cotton candy. 

“Don’t get too  _ cheeky _ ,” Morality said, and Virgil could practically hear his smile.

“I’m gonna ignore that pun. For both our sakes,” he said fondly. Patton giggled in response.

No other words were interchanged. They simply held each other and basked the warmth and happy feelings being together provided.

Patton was the one to break the silence with a quiet whisper. “Hey, Virgil?”

“Yes?”

He removed his head from its comfortable place on the other’s neck and looked up. Patton looked back at him.

The latter stood on his tiptoes and lightly pressed his lips against Virgil’s, leaving plenty of time for him to back away if he wanted. He didn’t. And it just felt natural; a little affectionate peck to show how much he loved Virgil.

It was barely a touch, but it left Virgil feeling all fuzzy inside in a nice way. He sighed happily and placed his head back on the other’s shoulder.

_ Home,  _ Virgil concluded,  _ he tastes like home. _


End file.
